


Perdure

by beargrove



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M, Outlast AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 02:14:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20283706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beargrove/pseuds/beargrove
Summary: below the heart, above the navelsliced and served on lecter's tableto make a meal with what we providethe ripper no longer needs to hide





	Perdure

William Graham curls his legs tighter under the table, pulling his bare feet further out of sight. It’s not good to hide here, on the ground instead of the vents, but he feels more centered here. Easier to think with solid ground under him. With shaking hands he pries open the viewfinder on his camera, nearly dropping it in the process. Keeping his hands curled close to his chest, he peers at the small screen, watching the events he just lived through unfold through the lens of his camera.

He only realizes how long he’s been there hours later, when the video is done with it's playback and the screen covered with Will’s fallen tears. He wants to unfurl, to stretch his legs and back, but it’s dark. He’s confused again, thoughts hazy from letting himself get lost in the mind of his pursuers. He should move. Being a sitting duck for as long as he has, it’s amazing he hasn’t been found already.

He stills his breathing for a moment, straining his ears to listen to his surroundings. There are screams, but they’re distant. From the floors below, maybe. There is laughter, too, and that’s closer, but not close enough to be immediately alarming. Will doesn’t focus on these sounds, they’re irrelevant. What he focuses on is the distinct sound of leather shoes slowly walking down the hallway outside the room he’s currently occupying.

Will thinks that maybe the man prowling the halls can hear his heart beating, using it like a siren call to lead him right to where Will has all but trapped himself. Like a gift for the stalking Variant, waiting to be unwrapped. He’s panicking before he can stop himself, gasping in the foul air of the asylum. He has few options, the room he’s chosen to hide away in is nothing but a small office containing a desk, office chair, and filing cabinet. The one vent in the room isn’t the large kind he can crawl through. Will is stuck.

Will knows who is hunting him. He found the file, when he first found his way to this floor of the building. Hannibal Lecter. The Ripper, the file had called him. A real sociopath, no empathy, no guilt for what he does to his victims. And there were a lot of victims. The body count would be high, but that’s the thing about Hannibal Lecter. He didn’t often leave bodies.

He ate them.

Will remembers now that the reason he came to this room in the first place was to hide from The Ripper and catch his breath, rest his screaming leg muscles for a minute. But his borrowed minute had become stolen hours, he was taking so much time he didn’t have to spare. And now Hannibal has found his prey once more.

Will is under no illusions. He’s certain Hannibal knew he was here. The man has been after Will for most of the night now. It was part of the game, most likely. He couldn’t keep toying with Will if he wore him out so completely. The sound of his footsteps were deliberate. He was letting Will know the game was back on.

Will creeps as quietly as he can out from under the desk, only lifting his head above it just enough so his eyes peek over, letting him study the misty glass of the office door for any lurking shadows. He can’t see anyone or anything standing immediately outside, but he knows Hannibal is near. The footfalls hadn’t left, only stopped. Hannibal is most likely waiting just a way down the hall. Waiting to see what Will will do.

He is not about to walk willingly into Death’s embrace. Will looks around the room again, eyes landing on the single, small window. His breath catches and he immediately surges forward to tug it open, a laugh almost bubbling out of him at the sheer relief as the window shudders and slides upwards. Will pokes his head out, shivering at the chill in the night air. He turns his head to the right and sees there is a ledge, a small one. Just enough for his feet to have something to hold onto. It’ll have to do. He pulls his head back in and swings a leg over the windowsill, letting his foot find purchase before he puts weight on it, pulling his other leg through and standing for a moment, clinging to the side of the building.

The sound of someone trying to turn the doorknob of the office he was just occupying spurs him into motion, shuffling as quickly as he can to the window of the next office. He doesn’t look back even as he hears the sound of a shoulder ramming against the door, and then silence. He has to get to the next window. It feels like forever until he reaches it, fingers curling around the top of it and heaving upwards. The window creaks and groans, and Will starts sweating despite the cold, nerves mixed with exertion. When the window finally flies upward Will lets out a soft ha! in victory, and moves to climb inside the unfamiliar room.

Before he can even get his head in and take a look at his surroundings, large hands grab him by the forearms and pull him in the rest of the way. Will gasps and then the air is punched out of him as he is pulled harshly to slam into the chest of Hannibal Lecter himself. It’s the first time Will has been this close to him, and as he looks up to meet Hannibal’s eyes, a tiny secret part of his mind whispers _wow, handsome_. He’s never been this close to Hannibal before. The man is smirking, but something in his eyes is almost fond as he gazes down at Will. He has Will’s arms in his grasp, holding them behind himself so Will has no choice but to remain pressed up fully against Hannibal’s front.

Will’s grasp on his camera tightens as to not drop it, and he blurts out, “Are you going to eat me?”

Hannibal regards him for a moment, and Will wonders if this is what the deer on the other end of a hunter’s scope feels like. Then Hannibal smiles brightly, like Will is the most delightful new toy he’s ever had the joy of playing with, and reaches out to stroke his fingers lightly down the side of Will’s face. Will is so shocked he doesn’t even flinch, just stares with wide eyes as Hannibal reluctantly removes his hand.

“I haven’t decided yet,” is the answer Hannibal gives him.

**Author's Note:**

> Short and sweet. I intended to write more, but I have a tendency to ramble, and my friend who beta'd it (shout out to @raepocalypse who isn't even in this fandom) said I had stopped a good place and it seemed finished. So I'm posting it! If I get inspired to write more for this AU I'll probably just make this a series of oneshots. But for now here is this.
> 
> [Also, some fanart I drew for this AU!](https://twitter.com/95vvii/status/1146607142327279616)


End file.
